


My Honor and Stuff

by Vonnelise



Series: The Weird Ones' Epilogue [10]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Bar fights, Drunk Dean, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, F/M, Interracial Relationship, Older Man/Younger Woman, Protective Dean, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:25:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vonnelise/pseuds/Vonnelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was a bit high while writing this, so that may be the reason it's all over the place. Hope you enjoyed still!</p></blockquote>





	My Honor and Stuff

It’s been about three months now since we’ve moved into the house. With Dean retiring and me not having a job for quite awhile, we’ve just been traveling all through France. We’re in the summer months now so there’s been much to do. We decided to go to this pub a few blocks down from our house tonight.

I’m at the bar ordering another Kir Royale for myself when Dean’s words from earlier ring in my head. “Be careful, Princess. European alcohol is much stronger than American alcohol,” he had said. But little did he know that I used to drink all the time. Ugh, I think I just made myself sound like an alcoholic, which I’m totally not. Anyway, I’m getting off topic.

The bartender is holding out a glass filled with Kir to me and I take it. I stay at the bar with my drink and sip it here. Dean’s across the room at a table surrounded by French men. They’re all talking excitedly and drunkenly about something. I can only understand the basics which aren’t really helping me understand them. 

All the windows and doors in this place are all open, but it’s still a bit stuffy. I’m wearing a short yellow dress with flip flops. Heat wave I think what’s going on. And since Dean isn’t working anymore, he doesn’t really care about appearances. His hair grew to his shoulders so he had me put his hair in a messy bun. His beard also grew out, too. Overall, he’s the hottest guy ever right now. 

Dean looks up from the table and looks around the place for a bit before his eyes land on me, as if he found what he was looking for. He gives me a smile before going back to his conversation. 

“Tambryn?” I look to my left to see my ex-boyfriend, Akil. I met him in London a few years back. All the girls at college were drooling over him because he’s Egyptian. When they heard ‘Egyptian’, they automatically thought he was a God. He’s attractive, don’t get me wrong, but the problem is that he knows it, too. Don’t know why I attract the narcissistic ones. 

I told Dean about Akil once. He wasn’t too proud of what I told him. Akil wasn’t the best boyfriend ever. He used to cheat on me, give my number to other girls so they could harass me about being with him, among a whole lot of other things. Those were the worst five months of my life. Glad it never went further than that. 

“Oh hey, Akil,” I say in a monotone voice. 

He nods with that dashing smile on his face and his light brown eyes travel down to my boobs. I fucking hate this guy. 

“Looking good I see. How long has it been?” 

I gulp down the rest of my drink and motion to the bartender for another one. “Not too long, I guess,” is my answer. 

“So what are you doing in Paris? Thought you went back to the states.”

I nod my head and look over to Dean; he hasn’t seen us yet, thank God. “I did. Then I moved here with my fiancé.”

He looks surprised at my words. “Fiancé?”

I nod and point over at Dean. “Yup, the tallest one there with the blue button down.” 

Akil sees him, raises an eyebrow and then looks back over to me. “You’re with that old guy?”

My finger taps against the wood of the bar. “Yes.” Honestly, the only way you can tell Dean is older is by his gray hair. 

“He must be loaded, huh?” He asks. 

My jaw clenches and my hand lays flat on the bar. I’m about to say something before I see Dean walking over. Oh, God. 

“It’ll probably be best for you if you just leave right now,” I whisper harshly to Akil. He doesn’t seem to understand what I’m talking about until Dean’s standing by my side. 

He pulls me closer to him by my waist and he leans down till his mouth is by my ear and says, “Who’s this?”

“This is Akil. My-uh ex,” I say. 

Dean seems to sober up a bit at the mention of the name. “Akil?” His brow furrows.

I nod my head, “Akil.” 

He turns to Akil and asks, “The same Akil that treated you like a piece of meat?” 

The smile drops from the younger man’s face fast. “I-uh, I don’t know what she told you.”

“You should probably just leave, dude,” I tell him. I’ve never seen Dean be violent towards anyone before, but by the way his eyes are glossed over from alcohol and the way he’s clenching then unclenching his hands, I think I know where this is going. 

Akil takes one look up at Dean to know that leaving is the best choice. He turns to leave when Dean looks at me. “He said something about ‘loaded’ when I was walking over here, what was he talking about?” 

And before I can think about what I’m saying, “He asked me were you loaded since I’m with you.”

Dean breathes out before following Akil outside. “Hey!” Dean shouts and Akil turns around just in time to catch a fist to the face. Now if I were any other classy ass lady, I would be over there trying to get Dean to stop punching Akil’s stupid face in, but I’m not. I just silently drink my glass of Kir like it’s none of my business, but of course it is. 

The bartender is yelling something at the two guys rumbling on the floor, probably telling them to get away from the pub. Dean delivers another blow to Akil’s face and pushes the older man away. He rams into Akil, making them both fall out onto the sidewalk. Akil doesn’t have time to recover since Dean continues to punch him in the ribs. Soon, Dean’s friends run over to get him off Akil. It takes all four of them to finally get Dean off him and Akil scurries away trying to stop his mouth from bleeding. 

“I don’t want to ever see you talking to my girl again!” He yells after him. 

Thinking that it’s about that time to leave, I set down my empty glass and pay the bartender before taking Dean away from the men and walking out into the cool night air. “You want to go after him?” He asks, already revved up for round two. 

I pull him closer to me and walk in the direction of the house. “Nah, I think you did your part for tonight. Protecting my honor and all.” 

He detangles his hand from mine and pulls me closer to his chest, making us both walk slower and more awkward. “I’ll always protect you.”

I smile, even though he can’t see it with his face being buried in my neck and all. “You know we’re gonna have to discuss your antics tomorrow morning, right?”

“My antics?”

“Yes, you’re antics.”

“Don’t know what I did,” he says all innocently.

“Of course you don’t.”

The next morning, Dean wakes me up to bandage his knuckles. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and some how some way his hair is still in the bun, but it looks all wonky now. 

“Do you remember what you did?” I ask him while dabbing rubbing alcohol on his knuckles. He winces a bit but nods.

“I punched that boy you dated,” he says the word ‘boy’ with so much venom. 

He makes me giggle. “You did more than punch him.” I wrap up his knuckles and walk out of the bathroom, Dean right behind me. 

“Are you mad at me?” He asks while sitting down in one of the metal bar chairs. I start getting things out of the fridge to start breakfast. I turn around to see him finally taking out the hair tie and running his hand through his hair. 

“No, I’m not mad at you. Just didn’t know that you fought bitches.”

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t. Well, I used to. I used to fight a lot in high school before I got into football.”

I fake shock and say, “Dean Jameson Maverick used to participate in violent activities? And you had me thinking I was the only one that fought.”

Dean shakes his head. “Nope, you’re not. I used to fight so much that my mother had to make a deal with the principal to let me stay in school. He said the only way for me to stay is if I played football.”

“Well, I’ll tell ya this, you looked fucking hot beating the shit out of him,” I say, totally forgetting about the scrambled eggs. 

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Did I?” 

I nod my head and walk my way over to him. He spreads his legs so I can fit between them better. “Yeah, you should do it more often.”

“I should do you more often.”

My head falls back so I can laugh properly. “God, that was so fuckin’ lame, dude.”

“I made you laugh, though. Mission accomplished.”

“Mission accomplished.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was a bit high while writing this, so that may be the reason it's all over the place. Hope you enjoyed still!


End file.
